The territory looked wrong in the best and worst ways. Three weeks after the True Core shockwave, the land had settled into something nobody planned.
Crystal veins ran through old Rigid streets like scars that refused to heal clean. In some districts, trees made of glowing crystal grew wild fruit that tasted sharp and sweet at the same time.
Buildings breathed—walls shifted an inch or two when the wind changed, doors opened on their own if you needed them. Other areas stayed barren, dust and cracked stone where nothing wanted to grow yet.
People called them scar tissue districts. The name stuck.
Kael walked the edge of one now, boots crunching on crystal gravel. His pack felt lighter than it should after everything they'd lost. Behind him, the main settlement buzzed with uneven life.
Some laughed too loud around cookfires. Others sat quiet, staring at nothing. The victory had cost friends, homes, and any hope of going back to how things were before.
